Gotham NightsBurning Pasts
by ReplicatedWolf
Summary: Even though she has been gone for decades, Buttercup's life is about to be uprooted by the past she now runs from. Not only must she step back into the life of a Powerpuff Girl, but she must work with the Justice League to defeat her worst fear: Him.
Cold rain pelted off equally cold skin, soaking the Raven haired girl to the bone. Her jacket did it's best to keep her dry, and warm, but being unzipped and with the hood down, it's job was all for not.

Black leather with a cotton hood opened at the front to reveal the waterlogged green tank top. A pendant hung around her neck, the shape of a lightning bolt. The girl held it in her hand, looking down at it with her emerald eyes as tears mixed with the rain.

As if to add insult to injury, lightning cracked in the sky above, drawing those sad eyes upward. "I'm sorry… So sorry…"

A whispered apology, and in a blur of green light, the girl disappeared from Townsville without a word.

* * *

Gotham rain greeted the woman's window, much like it did all those years ago. The similarity was why she came to Gotham city. It was a reminder. The darkness that the city provided also helped her to never forget. A sigh escaped her lips.

On days like these she wanted to stay home, but she had bills that needed to be paid. Grabbing the familiar leather jacket, and her keys, Buttercup, who now went by the name Olivia, headed to work.

Overhead, she watched the roof tops, wondering if she would catch a glimpse of this town's hero. The Batman. He was an inspiration to her. Maybe one day, she could face the darkness too, and rule it instead of being scared by it.

Nearing the local little strip club she worked at, she focused on the door. It wasn't opening time but the bouncer was in front. "Hey Olive!" They always got her name wrong but she didn't care. After all, it wasn't her true name.

"Hey Mitch." she was swift, Curt with her response to him, as she always saved the happy charm for the guests.

Inside, she got to work quick, getting the bar set up. She wore her classy black pumps, black short shorts, and a green strapless corset. Her hair was much longer than it ever had been as a child, but the length was comforting. Not as long as her sisters, but at the middle of her back, it made her hard to recognize. Even after all these years. At least she hoped.

It wasn't like anyone from Townsville would come to Gotham's shitty downtown just because, let alone this dive of a strip club. Well, maybe the Gangrene Gang, but they couldn't afford this place. At least, according to her memory they couldn't. Who knew how kind the years had been on them.

Bubbles did come to Gotham once, on Tour. She was a famous pop star and dancer now, and had to performance in the Gotham Theater. It was located in upper class Gotham City, and Buttercup was lucky to get tickets to the showing. She had been hidden in the crowd, and almost cried seeing her sister dance ballet.

Buttercup paused in her duties, to look down at the tattoo on her upper arm. She got it shortly after the concert let out. It was a cherry blossom tree, with bubbles around it, floating free. Blossom and Bubbles…

She shook away her emotions and finished stocking the bar. The place would open soon so she prepped her bartender attitude, awaiting the pervs and the sleeze-balls. It was a Saturday night, so she was hoping if she flirted with enough guys, she'd make enough in tips to pay her rent, which was due tomorrow.

* * *

"Man this place blows!" The ebony haired man ran a hand down his face as he looked away from the girl on stage. My gods… She looked like fuzzy lumpkim's species, whatever he was. Butch wanted someone young, hot, and in shape giving him a lap dance… Not Mojo's mother…

His ginger haired brother looked away grossed out too, gagging as he closed his light red eyes. "oh fuck me sideways! This place had good reviews on Google!"

"I bet they bought the reviews. Gotham is the city of criminals." both brothers nodded. "We should go to that ice place. At least we know for sure criminals run it."

Brick was talking about the club that the infamous Penguin owned. It was supposedly classy. "You may get a job too."

Butch was a mercenary. His brothers found their callings, in other fields sections of freelance work, but for Butch, the green made him happy. Whatever it took to get it, he did.

"Heh... probably. It would be shit work though. And then we have the Bat to deal with…"

Brick tsk'ed. "The Bat has nothing on you man."

"He has nothing on Superman too but everyone saw him hold his own against that Alien." Even as he spoke, Brick was smacking Butch in the shoulder with his hand, staring through the crowd, away from the stage.

"Dude… Is that who I think it is..?" The disbelief in Brick's voice had Butch raising his eyebrow, and turning to look at the same time. Behind the bar stood a gorgeous Raven haired beauty.

Her makeup accented her features, popping her eye color even in this dark place and adding a seductive look to her no matter her expression. Her clothes showed off curves that could condemn a man to hell.

She was pouring drinks expertly, never skipping a beat. She even did a little dancing on down time, in between orders, taking attention away from the strippers. Her smile though, was the only thing off about her. It was faked. Butch could see it. No one else seemed to notice.

"That can't be…" As Butch talked to himself, Brick waves their waitress over, to ask her who the bartender was. The waitress scoffed, obviously a jealous Bitch.

"That?" she spoke as if the woman was nothing but an 'it' and that angered Butch. "Olivia. She's not gonna be around for much longer though."

The tone of the waitress's voice had both Brick and Butch raising an eyebrow at each other. Her voice was cocky, smug.

"Anything else?" Brick rolled his eyes now, annoyed as well. "Just the check, and hurry. If that weight doesn't slow you down."

She gasped shocked, offended even, and stormed off. "We should just stick her with the bill. Yeah?" both brothers nodded and played diner dash. The rude waitress was left with what they felt was a just deserved tab.

As they dashed out, Butch took another glance at this Olivia. He couldn't be certain, with the makeup, the skimpy clothes, the well-endowed form, and the long hair, but he was willing to find out if it was indeed the girl they once remembered. The one long since gone.

* * *

The night had been a long one. Profitable, but long. The till had been cashed out, the money put away. The drinks were capped, and restocked. The only thing left to do was count her tips, and leave. So she did. Using her speed, when no one was looking, she had counted and organized her tips for the evening. $534.25 was her total. Not a bad night at all.

She grabbed her jacket and put her money in the zipable pocket of her jacket, put it on and waved to the people who were finishing the cleaning. "I'm out of here. Night everyone."

The guys said a good night too, as Mitch the bouncer went to follow her out and lock the door behind her. Standard policy. The women, well, they all grumbled.

Buttercup knew they hated her, but she didn't care. Everyone worked for tips, and it was a vicious game to earn them. Buttercup smirked as she pulled up her hood, knowing she played the game better than all the women there.

It was darker than normal on her walk home. The rain had stopped but the clouds still blocked out the moon and star light.

"That's Gotham for you." she mused to herself, lost in the sky. Too lost to see the pair of hands come out of the alley way as she passed. Shock made her guard fall, as she was pulled into that space and slammed against the wall. Her head bounced off the brick wall, as another pair of hands moved her once more.

Cold metal pressed against her throat as she took in the threat around her. Two assailants, one holding her arms up by the wrists, at her back. The other was in front, hand grabbing a fistful of hair, tilting her head back to press a knife against her throat. Both wore masks.

Muggers? Probably. But considering she dressed like a hooker for work, they could have been after more. Poor sods though. They didn't know who they grabbed.

"If you are after my cash, forget it." Buttercup opened her eyes, glaring at the one in front without moving.

The two men chuckled. The one in front leaned in close, trailing his knife down to her chest and back up, while the one at her back began to grind his pathetic excuse of a tool into her backside. "Oh we ain't after ya money. Now be a good girl. Scream for me-"

The man behind her was yanked into the darkness, leaving the one in front staggering back, pure fear in his eyes. He wasn't going anywhere though. A red, green, and black blur somersaulted over him. A knee greeted his face, and down the knife wielding assailant went. All Buttercup could do was stare, shocked.

It was the newest Robin before her. A kid whose violence was feared about as much as the Bat was. The masked man was a fool though. Despite the rumor of this kid's violent streak, he still rose, knife at the ready, and lunged. A gutsy move that did not pay off.

Robin just blocked carelessly, grabbed his wrist and -SNAP. The man cried out in pain, before Robin jumped up, level with his head. That was an amazing feat for a kid so small. He aimed a swift kick to the head and the assailant was out like a light.

She could feel the shadows behind gain a massive presence. Slowly glancing over her shoulder, she saw him. The Dark Knight, towering over her. The Batman intimidated her, sure, even though it wasn't her he was after. Looking past her, seeing she was unharmed, he spoke to his sidekick.

"Robin. Let's go." Short and simple. The Bat's voice was deep, but surprisingly human. Not the monstrosity all the criminals said it was. She had thought she'd heard his voice somewhere before but couldn't place it.

"Yeah. Chumps like these don't deserve to leave unscaved though…" Robin stopped talking when he saw the damage Batman had caused the one he took into the shadows. "Never mind." With that, they disappeared as quick as they came, their perps tied up. That left Buttercup stunned. Possibly fangirling, though she would never admit it to anyone.

Sirens blared, starting to grow louder. They were heading towards her, so she knew the Bat had called for a pick up. "You know, you could have handled that yourself." Another voice came from around the corner of the alley. Buttercup spun, fists clenched just in case.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" A figure emerged, and only when he was close enough did buttercup see who it was.

The man had black, spikey hair, close cut, with a bit of stubble connecting it all. Almost like a rugged five o'clock shadow. He was taller than her, which was hard with her in these heels. Buttercup stood at five foot six inches tall, without her four inch heels. She was damn near six foot even with them on, which meant he had to be six foot.

Hoodie, jeans, and boots were covering his body, hiding a figure she could only imagine matched his looks, but forget his body. It was those eyes that held her attention. Glowing, deep, forest green. Only one pair of eyes had ever looked like that.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." Boots tapped impatiently. It seems that over the years, Butch managed to get his animalistic tendencies under control. He always had to move, like a wild puppy. Growing up, it was hard to do anything with the urge to fidget. That problem made it take forever for him to learn how to shoot a gun, something Buttercup had no knowledge of.

"Sorry, love. I don't know what you are talking about." with that, she spun on her heels and began to walk away. Her plan was to pretend to not know him, to not be herself, and hope he fell for it and left her alone. Maybe then, she really wouldn't be Buttercup anymore.

Sadly, with age came intelligence. He was not fooled. The infamous sound of his speed, matched with the green light, and Butch was standing in front of her, leaning forward to the point where she had to lean back. In her heels, she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. The ground never came though. An arm wrapped around her waist. Buttercup met his strong chest and a scent that was musky, yet comforting. Sandalwood too? She was so distracted by his scent that she almost missed his deep inhale. His nose was not even an inch from the top of her head.

"Did… Did you just sniff me?" she stared up at him in disbelief.

"After all the times we fought growing up, do you think I wouldn't recognize your scent…? Even if it's hidden under the scent of cheap stripper, and alcohol."

A gasp escaped her mouth as she shoved him away and regained her footing. "It's coconut body oil! Thank you very much!"

Butch shrugged nonchalantly as Buttercup stepped around him and returned to her journey home. Not that it'd be home much longer. Butch's brother, Boomer, was dating her sister, last the news tabloids said. That meant she would have to move far away to stay hidden. After all, Butch would tell Boomer. Boomer, being so helplessly in love with Bubbles, would tell her where her sister has been hiding to make her happy.

Footsteps behind her snapped her out of her thoughts. Butch was probably as stubborn as her, one of the many reasons he always infuriated her. "What are you doing?" she already knew his answer.

"Following you home."

"Why?" stopping and turning around, her hands went straight to her hips as she snapped angrily at him. That dangerous rage beamed in her eyes, as they started to glow a tiny bit of green in the dark, much like Butch's did. This only made Butch grin, as he had the proof he needed, without Buttercup even knowing she had given it to him.

The dim light faded, as quickly as it came, as he watched her huff and turn once more, storming off in anger. "Because. I can." He followed suit in silence all the way back to her apartment.

* * *

Butch could only look in from the doorway of the tiny hovel in disgust and shock. The place they had come to wasn't even good enough to be an abandoned crack house, let alone an apartment building. The paint looked like it was mostly water damage on the walls, dead insects littered corners of the building, with random animal droppings scattered about. This whole place was one giant health hazard. Probably STD home too…

He felt polluted even stepping into the place, yet buttercup seemed right at home. She had just strode in, left the door open, tossed her jacket on the bed that rested in what should have been the living room.

"What? Are you going to just stand outside my apartment like a vampire? Do you need an invite to get in here?" Buttercup didn't even look at him as she sat down, and kicked off those amazing hooker heels. She didn't even bother to move elsewhere at all, or look at him as she waited.

So, reluctantly, Butch stepped in and closed the door behind him. The inside wasn't as bad as the outside. From obvious patches to the wall and ceiling, Buttercup had put some work into her space to make it livable. No insects on the floor but there were rat traps near the tiny kitchen, that's if the space could even be called that.

"Why is your bed in the living… Room…?" When Butch had turned back to look at butter cup, she had her back to him, and was unzipping the corset she wore. It came off easily, so she did what she would with her other clothes, and threw them in a pile on the floor.

That was all there was in the space. A single bed, and piles of what he could only assume were dirty clothes and clean clothes. An organized mess, probably. That didn't matter though. Not the gaudy wallpaper with patched up holes, not the dysfunction kitchen with a stove, a sink, and a fridge only, and definitely not the lack of furniture.

There was only one other thing in the dark room that mattered. The pale skin that was barely visible in the shadows, and the fact that the woman who now stood before him had not worn a bra at all. Her back was fully exposed to him. Her hands began to tug her shorts down her legs, panties along with the covering garment. She had no shame, and was unmoved by his presence. Butch knew something was wrong with her. What? He couldn't tell. Could barely care with that ass visible to him. The old buttercup would beat him black and blue for trying to look up her skirt in high school. Trust him, he knew first hand.

This one didn't care one bit. She was detached from her surroundings. Once nude, she just walked to her bathroom, which was more like a tiny broom closet with a toilet, sink, and shower, and left the door open. Butch could hear the water turn on, and a curtain sliding. "Because it's a studio apartment. There is no bedroom."

Butch shifted uncomfortably, his body straining against the confines of his pants in protest. Normally he'd take such a blatant display as an invitation to watch, possibly join, but it felt wrong to do today. He distracted himself by walking to the far wall. Where a window would be expected, a sliding glass door was instead. It lead onto a tiny balcony space. Big enough for three people to stand, if he were to guess.

Awkward silence ticked by, the only noise being the water running in the next room. Not really sure what he could and couldn't do without setting her off, he just walked over to the balcony door and stood, looking out at the starless sky.

"So, when do I lose my home?" Buttercups voice called out without emotion as the water finally turned off.

"What do you mean?" Lose her home? She couldn't mean this dump, could she?

"I'm not stupid Butch. You'll tell your brothers about me, and Boomer, being pussy whipped, will tell Bubbles. She will tell Blossom and be in my apartment in a matter of hours." that was true. Boomer would tell Bubbles. Butch didn't want her to bolt though.

Hearing a rustle behind him, he turned around to be greet by another shocking site. Buttercup wore only a black, lace pair of panties, and a towel around her shoulders that effectively hid her breasts. She was gathering her long, damp hair into a messy bun. Nothing probably looked more sensual to Butch ever.

She moved to find a shirt that she wanted to wear, settling on a tee with Bubbles image on it. She also started finding pants, as if getting ready to leave.

So Butch coughed and turned back towards the balcony, opening the door and stepping out. "I'm a mercenary, Buttercup. I leave in…" he checked his watch. "Three hours to the middle east on a job. Won't be state side for at least four months."

* * *

Butch had left shortly after he stepped onto the balcony, leaving Buttercup feeling anxious. She expected to see her sisters in her rundown apartment every day when she got home. The place was empty though. It went on for weeks before her anxiety faded. Weeks turned into a month, then two. Soon, half a year had passed, and still Buttercup was alone.

Part of her was disappointed. The other part felt grateful to Butch, even though he hadn't come back yet. Buttercup worried for him a little. After all, they had history and he kept his word. In a sense at least.

A sigh escaped her lips, her breath visible in the air. She was outside, enjoying a night stroll around one of Gotham's parks. The snow had begun to fall already. It was a little early, but she loved watching it fall.

The grass crunched breather her boots. Her pants grew slightly damp at the bottom from the snow. Her jacket kept her feeling warm though.

It was nice out here. Quiet even. At least she thought so. Whenever it was cold, Buttercup came to this park. It reminded her of better times. Sometimes at night, in the summer, it would get too hot in her apartment. The AC unit often broke. She would sometimes have flashbacks, to Him. His domain, the fires, the screams, the blood flowing down walls.

Quickly Buttercup shook her head, a hand coming to the lightning bolt necklace she always wore. Absentminded of her actions, she played with it. Whenever she had flashbacks to that place, that necklace saved her. It brought her back to her body, kept her safe. It was a reminder that everything was over.

Feeling the cold seep in, which was welcomed, she thought it best to head back. The quickest way was past the warehousing district. It wasn't the safest though. Going back at night always made her tense. No matter what, thugs always opened up shop there.

The night was far from quiet at the warehouse. Not even a mile into the yard, and she was greeted by sounds of fighting. Buttercup knew better than to get involved though. She would walk as far from the noise as possible. At least, she had planned to.

Plans sometimes don't exactly go as expected. A loud, primal, angry scream came from the fight zone. It sounded almost like when she had lost control as a child, but more animal and male. The sound of crashing came closer by the second and suddenly stopped, like something had gone through walls and crates before losing enough momentum to not go any further.

Movement towards the sky caught her attention next, a green blur. She couldn't believe it. Her own anger burned in her, as she raised her hood. Covering her face, only her green eyes illuminated some features, as they began to glow.

Butch dived back down, attacking someone who apparently got him good. Buttercup ran in the direction of his green after image, to the warehouse the rumble was happening in. She snuck in through a hole silently, and crouched down near some rubble.

Not believing her eyes, Buttercup watched as Batman, Robin, and Nightwing all conducted a series of well executed maneuvers. They had laid a trap for the super powered man, and he was oblivious to it. Wincing at a hard blow by Batman and looking away, Buttercup missed the tripwire that bound and electrocuted Butch with enough volts to knock him out cold.

Buttercup knew that Butch had to have been doing illegal work for these heroes to attack him like that. She knew he would be taken to justice, as required by law. Knew it was the right thing to do, but still, her heart ached. A selfish need to see that boyish grin he had given her in the street when he followed her home. Shaking her head, she couldn't believe she wanted him to agitate her like normal again. She craved his blatant annoyance, and his touch.

The Bat and his birds gathered around the unconscious Butch. Nightwing held his shoulder. It looked dislocated. Robin's lip was busted and bleeding. Who knew what kind of bruises were under his outfit. The Bat was just as messed up as both of the birds combined.

"Geez. How many volts was that?" Nightwing asked, looking to Batman in shock.

"Enough to ruin Superman's pretty boy hair." Robin replied, spitting some blood on the ground.

"He's probably the only one who knows where the shipping container is. We need to take him back to the cave and put him in Superman's cell." Batman sounded as if he had been choked. His voice was like gravel, and hoarse.

"Wait… You actually made a cell that could hold him?" Nightwing sounded impressed. There was only a silence that greeted the question, as Batman simply stared at Nightwing. "Riiiight… Of course you do."

Buttercup felt panic as Batman heaved Butch over his shoulder, and began heading toward where the Batmobile was parked. At least she assumed as much.

Shifting to leave through the same hole, Buttercup planned on heading them off. Her hand pushed off of the rubble, to keep her balance, but it was a mistake. The rubble shifted, knocking loose a few stones that kinky tumbled down the pile. A Batarang, or was it called a birdarang, flew at her. Robin had reacted instantly, but with her speed, she caught it with easy. Only problem was, the boy was prepared.

It exploded in her hand, sending her back into the wall. She hit it hard, just sliding down to the ground, hunched forward. "Another one? I got him..." Nightwing approached her, jamming his arm against a container along the way to pop his shoulder back into place.

Buttercup was still conscious, but not a fool. She pretended to be unconscious. Kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady. When Nightwing grabbed her he paused. "Or... her? When do these goons hire petite women? I thought they liked large, hulking idiots?"

Buttercup took that as a compliment, and felt her hood slide down. Her long hair fell loose around her. "Quit gawking and pick her up already." Robin sounded impatient.

"You can't just pick up a woman. Once you're older you'll understand." it was clear there was tension between Nightwing and Robin. She made a mental note of that.

"Let's go." Batman's voice was stern, so Nightwing complied, muttering under his breath, complaining. Not to long later, she felt herself land on top of a warm body, Butch, and heard the sound of a trunk closing.

In the Batmobiles trunk, on her way to the Batcave! She did her best not to squeal in a fangirlish way.

* * *

Butch awoke with a groan, every muscle in his body being sore. His bed was comfortable, and his mind hazy. "Brick… Boomer! What is that smell?"

He rolled over, hiding his nose to the smell of burning meat and smoke. Brows furrowing, he sniffed his blanket. A mixture of spices hit his nose. "Buttercup…?" In his bed? He was confused.

His eyes snapped open, as he bolted up right. He was greeted by gaudy wallpaper, a slightly smoky room, and a Raven haired woman in the smallest kitchen he'd ever seen. Hearing her name, she looked over her shoulder surprised.

"You're up. Good, food is done." she turned back to her pan, scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate with bacon, while muttering under her breath. Butch still heard her though. "Though I don't see why you deserve food…"

Still groggy, he just glared at her as she walked over and placed the plate next to him. "What am I doing here?"

"Not stopping for a visit obviously. After disappearing for what? Half a fucking year?! You couldn't tell me you were in town?" before he could open his mouth, she started pacing angrily, continuing without letting him respond.

"No! I have to find out by you getting in a fight!" His eyes went wide as he remembered. He had been up against Gotham's hero and he had lost. "And I had to fucking save you! Sure I got see the batcave but still!"

"Wait you got me from THE batcave?" Butch finally interrupted, shocked.

"Yeah." her response was nonchalant, like it didn't matter, while her anger seemed to simmer down a bit. "Why were you even fighting them?" her voice grew softer, worried. It tugged at his heart strings. This time she sounded meek. Her eyes didn't help. They were sad.

"It was my job, babe. My team came here with a shipment. Apparently it was an item of interest to the Bat's, but it was my job to slow down followers to get our charge to safety."

"So…" Buttercup watched Butch pick up the plate, take a bite of the eggs and gag. "Wow you can't cook..."

Buttercup blushed with embarrassment, moving to take the plate away. Butch grinned at her and kept the plate out of reach, shoveling another fork full into his mouth and swallowing without a gag. "How did you get us out of THE Batcave?"

Buttercup grew distant. Her face fell to a perfectly emotionless, unreadable expression as she moved to the kitchen. She stayed cleaning pans with her back to him, quiet at first.

"What was in the crate?" she countered.

Butch knew if he didn't answer her, she would not answer him. So with a heavy sigh, he played her game. "I don't know exactly. All I know is that it's His crate."

The pan clanged loudly in the metal sink as it fell from her hands. Buttercup was tense, her blood running cold. "Him… As in…?"

"Yeah, Daddy number two." swiftly Butch dodged a flying metal pan that was aimed at his head. Just barely.

"You work for Him?!" she screamed, not only fury, but panic in her eyes. Butch hopped out of bed, hands up in a peaceful manner.

"Occasionally I do an odd job for him. Nothing more. Move a crate, deliver a message. That's it."

A plate was thrown as she started shouting at him. "Liar! He sent you didn't He!? Well you can tell him to piss off! I'm never going back!" she tried to bolt past him, to the door, but he caught her from behind, wrapping his arms around her.

She struggled, screaming obscenities at him until she was out of breath. Even Butch was panting. "What are you talking about babe?"

Her head fell forward as he felt her shake uncontrollably. He heard a sniffle and felt a drop of wetness hit his hand. "He won't let me go… Never lets me go…"

Dawning hit Butch as Buttercups panic attack set in. Her legs gave out from the shaking, but she didn't fall. Butch eased her to the ground, loosening his grip. He was hugging her now, instead of restraining.

"I won't let Him get you again. Shh. You're safe." he began to pet her head until the tears, panic, and shaking stole enough of her energy to put her to sleep.

* * *

 _If people seem to like this, more will come. Its in its unedited phase, so it is not the best. Criticism welcomed and appreciated._


End file.
